


Like Fire

by danascullys



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, mom scully, mulder family, scully william mulder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danascullys/pseuds/danascullys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi okay this is a story following William's story line. It is him as a teenager, with not much information of his biological parents, then finding out he has a certain gift. This gift it the path that will help him find his way home to Mulder and Scully</p>
<p>i hope you enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

The sun shines brightly in his room; illuminating his sky blue walls. Posters and pictures cover his walls, messily taped due to the carefree manner he has. The boy awakes from his long sleep, rubbing his eyes, and then running his fingers through his scruffy hair. His hair; one of the most unique things about him, as many people have continued to tell him over and over. As much as he was complimented, the constant talking about the beauty of his hair colour and how unique it was, was tiresome. To him, his hair was boring, but others think that his dark red colour is magnificent. His hair was like a fire that was slowly dying out, some parts were scarlet, some parts were a bright ginger, and some parts were a brownish red. His parents told him that either his biological mother and father must have had red colour of hair and a brownish colour of hair. It didn’t really matter to him though, he’s never met them, and he never will, as his adoptive parents told him that his parents died in a house fire. As nice as it would have been living with his real parents, he truly loves the mother and father he has now, they are the best parents he could have asked for.

The boy climbs out of his bed and put on his favourite pair of jeans and mint green t-shirt. He looks into his mirror to see his two bright blue eyes staring back at him. He smirks.

“William!” His mother yells,

“Come down stairs, your breakfast is waiting!”

He quickly makes his way down the stairs to see a mass of blue and green balloons surrounding his kitchen table. Willam’s mother hurries over to him and plants a big kiss on his cheek.

He can feel his face grow hot and red.

“Awh, I can’t believe my baby boy is already 15!”

She brushes a curl of his hair off of his forehead.

“I love you mom.”

His father comes from around the corner with a small, neatly wrapped box. He pats William’s shoulder proudly.

“This is for you son.”

As his parents eagerly stare, William tears open the wrapping, and opens the small box. Inside lies a silver compass, engraved with a swirling design.

His eyes widen.

“Wow, y-you got this for me, I mean, wow thank you so much.”

  His father grins.

“It was my father’s, then it was mine, and now it’s yours.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, William rushes over to his parents and hugs them tightly.

“Thank you so much, I love you.”

His father pulls away from the embrace and straightens himself out.

“Now son, I want you to go walk around today, go explore, and bring that compass with you, I want it to go to good use.”

William grins, hugs his parents once more, and runs out the door.

Today is a good day he thinks to himself. The sun is shining, the sky is clear, and the weather is warm. In front of his property lies miles upon miles of fields, mostly bright golden corn, but some are covered in magnificent green grass. He starts on a steady jog, past the grassy fields and into the corn. He’s always loved running, and he’s always been quite good at it, or any physical activity for that matter. He isn’t the tallest 15 year old, and he isn’t the most muscular 15 year old, instead he his lean, and slightly taller than some. He often wishes he was taller though, because his favorite sport is basketball, and dunking is quite the challenge for him.

Little beads of sweat roll down his forehead and his back, as the sun starts to scorch his fair skin. William slows down his run, until he is at a walking pace. He looks back through the maze of tall stalks of corn and he cannot see his house, but it doesn’t really matter because he knows that this whole time he has been going east. He walks further and further and the corn seems almost as if it is getting thicker and thicker. William looks down at his compass to see that it is still facing east. As he is about to put it back in his pocket he notices that it quickly flicks over to south, then back again to east. He stops, puzzled. The compass goes again from east to south, but it keeps on spinning around and around.

“Stupid thing.” He mutters under his breath.

It keeps on spinning and spinning, not knowing which direction is where. William begins to feel a searing pain in the middle of his skull. It grows stronger and stronger, and he thinks that it might actually break. The searing pain is so unbearable he screams out loud. The pain furthers itself down the back of his head, to his neck, and down to his spine. He crumples to the ground in complete agony, and he suddenly cannot see anymore. He thinks that he is going to die, the pain is so terrible and the sensation he is feeling throughout his body is unbearable, and then an image flashes in front of his eyes. The second he sees this, the pain stops, and the compass faces east once more.

He sees the face of a woman, with bright blue eyes like his own.

**And hair as red as fire.**


	2. Revelations

There’s a strange feeling in his head; foggy more or less. He feels as if he awoke from a long sleep yet, he knows that hardly any time has passed. He was only down for a minute or two. He glances over at his watch, and to his surprise, three hours have passed.

  “What the..?”

He pulls himself up off the dirty ground and brushes himself off. A wave of dizziness rushes over him as apparently he got up too fast. William blinks the stars out of his eyes and tries to regain a sense of stability. He slowly stumbles in the direction of his house, it dawns on him that his parents are probably riddled with panic. He begins to jog again. The image of that woman is permanently stuck in his head, the thought of her eyes makes him feel uneasy and anxious. The thought of her stirs something deep inside him.

_Keep calm, it was nothing, just my imagination, it was nothing_

He thinks to himself.

William concentrates on his breathing and the thudding of the compass in his pocket against his leg to take his mind off of what happened. He continues to run and the field becomes thinner and thinner until he has made it back to his property. All of the lights in his little blue farmhouse are lit, surely his parents are waiting at the door for him. He enters his house to see that his kitchen is empty.

“Mom? Dad?”

           “Over here,”

He hears his father say from a distance.

William goes over to his living room to see if they are there. Sitting on the couch are both of his parents, not bothering to look up from their books.

“Hey, guys, I’m home.”

His mother looks up from what she’s doing and smiles,

“Okay honey, glad you had fun.”

William, feeling slightly annoyed by his parents and their lack of care of what he was doing for the past 4 hours, leaves to go to his room. He closes his door and props a chair against the handle so his parents can’t get in. Over at his small wooden desk, he pulls out his sketchbook. Pages upon pages are covered with drawings and paintings of anything you could think of. But his art was always in the shadows. Never did William ever dare to show anyone his work, they’re for his eyes only, and everyone would just make fun of him anyway. He props his book on his lap while he sits on the edge of his bed. Under his bed lies his most prized possession; his painting set. Once, a couple years ago, he went to a store where he saw this set and immediately he wanted it more than anything, and he knew his parents would never approve of it, and he didn’t have enough money for it, so one night, he went back to the store and he stole it. He felt guilty for it, but then again it was in the name of art, so it couldn’t be the worst crime. He pulls out his set from under the bed and opens up the little wooden box it comes in. Inside is 16 different tubes of oil paint, most of them are near empty but some colours he hardly uses. He squeezes out little drops of paint onto his palette, and starts dabbing his brush in it.

He works quickly and precisely, as he has had much practice. Working hard over the course of a half hour he completes his new masterpiece. Staring back at him from his sketchbook are the same bright blue eyes he saw earlier. William captured the image of the woman perfectly, from her mesmerizing eyes, to her rosy plump lips, and to her fiery hair. This woman seemed so distant and strange to him yet something about her stuck. He tries to put his art away, but he can’t break his stare from her, he can't stop looking at her eyes, her all too familiar eyes. Something inside him has been telling him from the moment he saw her that he needs to find her. He his being drawn to her. He looks over at his mirror to see a rather disheveled version of himself, due to his episode in the cornfield. William finds it curious that the bright blue eyes he sees in his reflection are oddly mirrored in his painting.

_I must find out who she is_

William gets off of his bead and hurries down stairs.

“Mom, dad, okay please don’t make fun of me, but um I-I painting something and I need you to tell me if you know this woman.”

They both look up from their books looking puzzled.

“Willy honey, what is it?”

His mother asks slightly worried as to what is really is. William opens up his book to show his parents the painting of the woman. Immediately his parents eyes widen with fear.

“Oh god,” he hears his father mutter quietly under his breath. His mother shoots an alarming look towards him. William’s stomach is in knots and his anxiety is quickly building up inside him.

“W-what is it? Tell me what’s happening.” he stammers.

“Oh, its nothing William, it's nothing at all.”

“What do you mean it’s nothing, what are you guys looking all worried for?”

Son, its nothing, uh- we were just surprised that you paint.” his father says in a very unconvincing voice.

“Mom, Dad, I want the truth, I need answers, tell me what’s happening.” William begins to raise his voice.

“It’s nothing boy, now go on and get out of here, you are annoying the hell outta me.” His father says sternly.

Suddenly, it clicks. The knots in his stomach undo themselves, the anxiety drops, and he is left with an ethereal feeling, for William has figured it out.

“It’s, m-my mother.”

His mother frowns at him.

“No its not honey, I’m your mother.”

“Well, I know, I mean my birth mother.”

She rolls her eyes

“Who cares about her, she’s dead anyway.”

William’s face grows hot, and his eyes start to sting.

“Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean I can’t love her and it doesn’t mean that I can’t learn about her.”

She gives him a smirk and a rather condescending laugh

“Whatever you say.”

William feeling hurt and confused goes back to his room, but on his stairs he turns around to look at his mother again. She has turned back away from him, leaving him staring at the back of her neck.

“Mom,” he says, confused.

“Have you always had that scar?”

He points to the one at the back of her neck.

“Oh, uh, of course son, don’t be silly.”

William trudges his way back to his room, confused with why his mother lied to him.

**His mother never had a scar on the back of her neck.**

 


End file.
